


Mic Drop

by SecretScribbles



Series: After Earth [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: After earth series, Gen, I have so much more to add to this series, Idk I'd rather not risk it, Karma bro, Keith Kibum, Korean Keith, May or may not enjot torturing Iverson, Mic drop, Racist Iverson, Racist Language, Texas Keith, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 04:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13539303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretScribbles/pseuds/SecretScribbles
Summary: Iverson is always in a bad mood, but Lance just humiliated him and he's looking for a fight. Unfortunately, the only one around is Keith...





	Mic Drop

**Author's Note:**

> I told you I'd be back >]
> 
> WARNING: Iverson is a dick and slightly, if not heavily racist. Beware his ignorance.
> 
>  
> 
> Still unbetad, still on my phone. Sorry, guys.

 

 

“Pidge, have you seen my polishing kit?” Keith walked in reeking of sweat and desert and hours of training as he sighed his way through the door. “My blade could use some cleaning.”

 

“That’s not the only thing that needs cleaning,” Pidge grumbled. “Check the showers.” A smirk climbed up over her face then. “When you’re done smelling like the belly of a weblum, come check out this recording Hunk just sent me. I think we might have a new game with Iverson.”

 

Keith smirked right back at her. “If it’s anything like the time he told Allura she couldn’t fight, you can definitely count me in.”

 

Pidge cackled at the memory and her smile brightened. “Pretty dang close.”

 

With a nod, Keith ran off to the showers as instructed, momentarily forgetting about his knife. In truth, Keith was used to people complaining about his smell by now. During his time with Voltron, daily showers had been ingrained into his very being until he no longer fought it and just accepted defeat to avoid a scolding about personal hygiene. Again. 

 

When he had been with the Blade of Marmora, however, his fellow blade members had been curious as to why he had to bathe every day, especially with the Galra’s distaste for all things water. He quickly fell out of the habit again and blamed it on his heritage, much to Team Voltron’s dismay. Now, back on earth, Keith was learning fast just how badly showers were required of him. The perks of  _ these  _ showers, though, came with his choice of music.

 

The water beat down over his skin with sweet relief after the harsh heat of the desert, but the tunes Keith bobbed his head to were even more enjoyable than the water. As Keith stepped out of the shower freshly rid of about three layers of dirt and sweat, he paused his music long enough to plug in some headphones and shove them into his ears before walking away, his belt hanging loosely around his waist. Even with the air conditioning on, it was too hot and humid to wear a shirt. Plus, he rather enjoyed the flustered state he would often send people into when they ran into him half naked. So, with only his towel hanging off his head and shoulders and his pants just about zipped, Keith set off.

 

Bare, scarred feet tapped lightly against the flooring as Keith made his way to Pidge, and he hummed softly to his music along the way. With Shiro out in space with Keith, the only thing that Keith had missed most about Earth was his music. Nobody else in the galaxy could sing that way; not that he had found at least- and believe him when he said that he had scoured the galaxies looking for it. It had taken him months to finally give up on it, and even then, there was still that lingering hope that he could have stumbled upon it.

 

Pidge rolled her eyes when Keith entered the room, already having learned not to bother her teammate when he had his headphones in and ruin his good mood after the last  ‘incident,’ and went back to pulling up Hunk’s recording of his and Lances’ latest conquest on their old teacher. Meanwhile, Keith set out to find his cleaning kit in the shelving units along the wall.

Quietly, drawer by drawer, Keith sang to himself under his breath as he peeked around trying to find his missing belongings so that he could polish his blades whilst hanging out with his friend. It was a sort of ‘kill two birds with one stone’ method that he had recently adopted thanks to a certain blue paladin. Pidge generally ignored Keith when he was like this, but bobbed her head to the beat of the mostly familiar song by now, finding herself soothed by his quiet singing voice. With keith’s headphones in his ears and Pidge off in her own little world, neither of them noticed the man they both loved to hate the most walking into the room.

 

Iverson stopped in the doorway from shock, and growled when he saw Keith, shirtless, wiggling around in front of a wall of drawers and completely oblivious to his surroundings. He marched over to who he had considered one of his ‘greatest disappointments’ to scold him about proper etiquette in a military base such as the Castle of Lions, but stopped once again once he heard Keith muttering under his breath. 

 

_ “Dwegopa neoye oppa, neoye sarangi nan neomu gopa. Dwegopa neoye oppa neol gatgo mal geoya dugo bwa…” _

 

Rage filled Iverson from head to toe. This simply would not  do. Not only had he just been humiliated by his other ‘greatest disappointment’ not twenty minutes earlier and then had to endure the desert heat in his devastating retreat, now he was reliving his failure all over again with someone who couldn’t even make it through basic training.

 

The Commander saw red.

 

“ _ Kibum _ !” Iverson shouted. “This is America; we speak English here, got it?” He stopped mere inches away from the young man who had turned to him, lazily pulling out an earbud. 

 

“What?” Keith asked.

 

The Commander puffed up with even more irritation from this response. “Nobody else can understand your alien speech, so show some respect and act like the soldier you claim to be!” With a snarl, Iverson yanked Keith’s towel from his shoulders, sending black hair and earbuds flying. “How the Devil did you manage to ‘save the universe’ when you don’t even know how to dress in your own base? What happened to all that training you got from the Garrison? You don’t live with those purple freaks anymore; you’re to act like the soldier you were meant to be here on Earth! Which means standing at attention when your commanding officer enters the room, putting on a fucking shirt, and stop that ridiculous singing and speak English like the red-blooded American you are!”

 

Pidge watched wide-eyed as Iverson heaved from the effort it took to scream at Keith, his eyes bulging at the young man he had targeted. Keith, however, was still staring down at his ripped headphones, destroyed at his feet but still playing his music. Slowly, Keith lifted his eyes to his former Commander, not even flinching from the ferocity of Iverson’s glare, and squared his jaw. Tension rose as Iverson’s panting lingered on, the muffled sound of Keith’s music still playing at his feet, but still, Keith said nothing. Until the chorus came.

 

_ “Hae sone teuropi a manha neomu heavy nae du soni majalla!”  _

 

Keith went all out with the song, mockery clearly evident in his eyes as his voice echoed off the high ceilings, and stomping his feet to the beat with each step he took closer. In all honesty, Keith looked a little on the clinically insane level of obnoxious, which made it absolutely perfect. The longer he taunted, the deeper and more guttural Keith began to shout his words out, turning the song into almost a battlecry by the end of it.

 

_ “Mic Drop. Mic Drop. Bal bal josim noene, mal mal josim!” _

 

Pidge watched Keith’s advance with barely contained laughter as he easily forced the old teacher to step back while the paladin continued on. Iverson looked about ready to pop with another rampage, but Keith stopped him with a fierce stomp at his feet and jutted his chin up to the older man, the music dropping to a low, almost deadly tune that matched the fire in his eyes perfectly.

 

“I’m Korean, you racist ass-twit.”

 

Suddenly, Iverson didn’t have anything to say. Keith, on the other hand, had plenty.

 

“I learned how to be a soldier out in the field, and I’m not sorry to say that it’s different from what you taught because I would have been dead within minutes,” Keith spat. “Whatever rules you think you have over us are completely useless out on the battlefield, and that includes your rank,  _ Iverson _ , because everything we do, everything we’ve  _ done  _ was done successfully because of what we learned while we were risking our lives for people like  _ you _ .”

 

Keith stood taller, broadening his shoulders and forcing Iverson back even more, then narrowed his eyes at the older man. “I may have spent my Garrison life in your country, but that doesn’t mean I’m yours to claim. Whatever bigotry you have against anything un-American should stay in that nasty little head of yours,” Keith hissed. “Nobody wants to hear your shit.”

 

Finally, Iverson cracked. “And nobody wants to hear alien chatter, either,” he snapped. “Your heritage is of little importance to me, but you should follow your own advice,  _ cadet _ . Unless you want people to think you’re plotting treason, I would suggest sticking to Earth languages.”

 

Keith scoffed. “Voltron, Defender of the Universe, with five out of seven team members being  _ actual Earthlings _ plotting treason against Earth. What perfect sense.”

 

“ _ Four _ Earthlings,” Iverson growled, trying to be intimidating. “Unless you've forgotten.”

 

“You certainly haven't,” Keith could only sneer, stepping closer to him. “We will speak whatever languages we damn well please,” Keith said lowly. “Because fuck knows how much more they helped us than  _ you ever did _ .” 

 

“Keith,” Pidge called, finally popping up to add into her freshly displayed entertainment. “Before you deck it out with yet  _ another  _ officer, I kind of need you to loosen the blaxoms on the somophlange or else we’ll be a sitting dooflax for the next next three quintents of the spocolian movement.” She rose her brow for a relaxed look, fiddling with her glasses to motion to Iverson. “Or we can do it to the poclones on the agroclans and deal with this angry klanmurl for the next few vargas.”

 

Both men stared openly at the green paladin for very different reasons. Iverson on the brink of another rage, and Keith trying to curb his entertainment from what his partner in crime was doing. Keith snatched up his towel and shrugged while he sauntered off with a smug smile as though to do as he had been asked, while Iverson was gearing up for another outburst before Pidge stopped him with a glare of her own.

 

“You know, we’ve traveled across several galaxies,”she said nonchalantly. “And in pretty much all of them save for our planet had the same common tongue.” She adjusted her glasses once more before leveling the man with a steady look. “If anything, our solar system is far behind in the times. If you really want this place to be as amazing as you believe it is, you might consider catching up to the other galaxies first.” With that, Pidge went back to work on her computer, not even giving Iverson another glance. “Door’s that way,” she said, definitely not bothering to look or point. “I trust you’re smart enough to know how to use it.”

 

Once again, Iverson turned and left his former students with clenched teeth. 

 

She waited a good five seconds before Pidge muttered out: “He’s gone.”

 

Instantly, Keith stepped out from behind one of Pidge’s projects to lean against it, holding onto the ends of his towel back around his shoulders. “I can honestly say I never missed that guy,” he hissed, glaring at the door.

 

“You and me both, mister,” PIdge agreed. Then, focus still mainly on her computer: “I thought you were adopted when you were, like, eight or something.”

 

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Keith confirmed. “My dad said he was an old friend of my mom’s and pulled every string in the book to get me over here. I grew up in Texas, dude; I can barely speak Korean at all anymore.”

 

The patented Pidge grin resumed its rightful place across her lips. “That just made this new Iverson game  _ a hell of a lot _ more fun. Check this out.”

 

Without a word, Pidge pulled up the recording Hunk had sent over and tilted her head to the side for Keith to see over her shoulder. A sinister grin spread over her face as she watched Iverson fall to his demise via Lance’s wit, but Keith could only look in amused confusion.

 

“What was that?” Keith asked.

 

“That, my dear Kibum, was Lance's revenge,” Pidge explained.

 

Keith pondered this, then the grin spread over to infect him as well. “I'm in.”

 

Pidge could only cackle in agreement.

 

 

   

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had a really hard time trying to figure out how to make Iverson speak offensively because I like to think I'm not a jerk. Then I thought, 'what would a Trump supporter say?' and with my experience from that came forth the birth of Iverson's attitude. Enjoy.
> 
> I have so many more ideas for this series and so much hate on this guy you have no idea, may or may not be using him as a substitute for the people in my life who think like him. Iverson will burn, my dudes. I have no mercy.
> 
>  
> 
> On a lighter note, tell me what you think. I love hearing/talking with you guys :)


End file.
